Song walked slowly. 

The arena fight he just saw was intense. 

To observe how well some fighters could use their strength and Crystal energy in fights was important.

Intriguing, too.

There were currently four fighters that everyone was talking about who were able to win with two or three creature-opponents at once. 

When Song heard about it, he noted it and planned to go to see it. Especially one fighter who liked to harm rogue Abilitiers. His surname was Ditta. Song just watched him fight.

There was also another one, but Song had forgotten his surname. People in the City were talking about this one a lot, focusing mostly on his looks.

Amusing.

Why focus on a pretty face and not on the skills?

From what Song had heard, the fighter, despite his beauty, was very skilled. Yet, all the talk was about who and when would get him.

Hell, whatever.

The City’s gossip. Irrelevant.

Song spent the last months observing these strange labs in the Deserts. 

The creatures, as these experiments victims from cartels were called, were still a mystery. How were cartels transforming people into such a state?

Very alarming.

As well as the situation with the arena fighters.

Song got to know that the cartels were trying to reach them, so he attempted to approach these fighters as well to assess not only their techniques but also if cartels tried to buy them. 

Or what else did cartels want to achieve, if not to buy these skilled fighters? Because Song discovered that the best arena fighters were increasingly being surrounded by the main cartel, cartel number two. And some fighters disappeared. 

Why? Where? Song wanted to know.

… He walked slowly, lost in thought.

Evening was approaching; the fight he had just finished watching had taken place at an early hour. Quite rare, as they were usually late at night.

A broken-down, old pitch caught his eye. Something was going on there. He looked. 

Someone was arguing. Not relevant.

Song was heading to a dance club.

He didn’t intend to dance. He wanted to ask around. If there were some new talks, gossips. 

Everything he wanted to listen to. 

He reached the place and paused in front of the door.

“Heise? Heise! I am so excited; I didn’t expect to see you. Let’s go…” a man’s voice exclaimed.

Song looked at the person who had said that. 

Alex, the dancer who loved to tell the stories from his dancing club. The name Alex knew—Heise—Song used this one here, in the City’s clubs. He chose it himself. 

The Sect’s language was not well known.

Ignorance amused him. 

It also was a kind of test. Who would understand? Who would be aware of the meaning?

“ALEX,” Song said and went inside, ready to listen to the stories.